


Flashbacks and Echoes

by lovelyechoes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben Solo is a Funeral Director, Dark Humor, Death, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Loss of Virginity, Mentioned Luke Skywalker, Parents Han and Leia, Phasma Owns a Flower Shop, Phasma Ships It, Rey Needs A Hug, Rey works at a flower shop, Slow Burn, Taylor Swift songs, Virgin Ben Solo, Virgin Kylo Ren, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), Wakes & Funerals, life and death, pop culture references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-03-01 07:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18795973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyechoes/pseuds/lovelyechoes
Summary: Ben is a funeral director. Rey works at flower shop. Their paths cross. Is it fate?





	1. Life and Death

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta reader, Lindsey! I appreciate any comments and kudos!

Ben Solo, the Funeral Director, has Craigslist open on his computer.

Wishing that the personals section was still there to distract him. He found that section to be entertaining. The lengths people would go to for sex. Clearly, they were desperate if they were posting it under platonic relationships only.

Wait. Was anyone even using Craigslist anymore? He heard of the horror stories. Maybe he should try Indeed, LinkedIn, Glassdoor… But how would he even reach out to potential candidates without them being weirded out by the occupation?

Writing this job listing was giving him a headache. But it had to be done. A few of his best funeral arrangers had retired or had changed jobs. Was there a way to entice some younger people into the funeral business?

A sales and admin/office job? Huh? No wonder the funeral industry is in decline. At least they weren’t presenting it as anything else. They weren’t grief counselors after all.

 

* * *

  

Craigslist>All SF bay area>jobs>admin/office

Funeral Director’s Assistant/Funeral Arranger (Colma)

Compensation: Determined upon interview-Entry Level Pay

Employment type: Full-time

Chandrila Funeral Home seeks a Funeral Director’s Assistant/Funeral Arranger. Entry level position. Full-time positions available.

Job duties include but not limited to: answering the phone, faxing, filing, greeting, assisting with funeral services, help file death certificates, assisting with removals/transferring remains to and from hospitals, coroner facilities, nursing homes, mortuaries and residences.

Bilingual (English/Chinese) a plus. 

Please email your resume with the subject line: Chandrila Funeral Home Assistant Funeral Arranger

 

* * *

 

Jump Then Fall. Untouchable. Long Live. 

Those just weren’t Taylor Swift songs, it perfectly described the very moment Rey was placed at Jakku Flower Shop in the little town of Colma. After two semesters at City College of San Francisco, Rey had two more semesters before completing all the requirements of her Associates of Science degree in Floristry. It was required to complete the work experience portion. She didn’t mind. Rey had to keep busy with her hands—whether it was with flowers or cars. It kept her from the feeling of loneliness that crept up every once in a while.

Rey only knew how to survive. After she had aged out of the foster care system, she was gifted a book of poetry—written by none other than Tupac Shakur.

_Did you hear about the rose that grew_  
_from a crack in the concrete?_  
_Proving nature's law is wrong it_  
_learned to walk with out having feet._  
_Funny it seems, but by keeping its dreams,_  
_it learned to breathe fresh air._  
_Long live the rose that grew from concrete_  
_when no one else ever cared._

It inspired her to pursue floristry—determined not to become a homeless youth. Fortunately, she lived in San Francisco, and qualified for free tuition at City College of San Francisco.

Still, no matter how bad things got, she was reminded and surrounded by the beauty and strength of flowers.

 

* * *

 

Colma, a suburb (if you can call it that) of San Francisco, consisted of the best neighbors the living could ask for. Dead. The best kind. Rey kind of envied that. Growing up in the foster care system, the neighbors could be downright obnoxious and nosy. Rey felt grateful to be living with Poe and Finn in the Glen Park district of San Francisco. Although, it had been increasingly gentrified. But what part of San Francisco wasn’t?

* * *

 

Ben Solo had never thought of himself as amiable or approachable. His height alone intimidated those around him. He’d never thought he would take over Chandrila Funeral Home. Eleven years ago, his parents sent him off to Cypress College in Southern California. They were determined to have him take over the family business. And under the tutelage of Uncle Luke. How could things go wrong? Snoke secretly mentored him all four years and recruited Ben straight out of college to work at corporate funeral homes. Though never as the director. He wasn’t fit for that. Not like his grandfather, Anakin Skywalker. Snoke never let him forget.

Imagine the betrayal Han and Leia felt—devastated that they lost their son to a corporate funeral home. Where had they gone wrong? Surely, they couldn’t completely blame Snoke & Hux Funeral Homes. Ben was complicit involving himself with those two leeches. It was those late nights and overtime that stretched Ben way too thin. Night calls. Not the kind twenty-somethings want to receive, but one that required him to be on call late into the night and very early mornings. Semi-permanent bags formed under each eye. Suddenly, he felt like an old man having not experienced life, love and even sex. Hell, he didn’t even have to time to even think about it. 

On those nights, he kept a work cell phone, legal pad and pen nearby. He’d receive calls intermittently. Ben had a script: name of deceased, social security number, next of kin, location and transferring of remains, and other particulars. Then he’d make calls and leave messages for the removal technician to pick up the remains. The administrative tasks can be somewhat taxing. Ben didn’t mind his job—hell, he enjoyed it. The funeral ceremonies were always interesting to him. The ceremony, the rituals and rite of passage. The eulogy and the personal stories told about that particular person. He wondered what his funeral would be like, who would attend, what would they say… Then again, thinking about it was fruitless. He’d live vicariously through the departed.

* * *

 

Rey bounded down the dirt path to Jakku Flower Shop. Her circle skirt flouncing as she walked toward the door. Phasma greeted her.

“You must be Rey. Thank goodness. I could use the help. We just got a large order for a funeral from Chandrila. Are you ready to work straight away?”

“Yes, I am. Thank you!”

“Excellent!”

“May I ask you a question?”

Phasma nodded.

“What’s Chandrila? Is that a person?”

“Oh no, it’s a family owned funeral home nearby. They’re one of our best customers. Ben, the funeral director, is about my height.”

 

* * *

 

Rey felt relieved she had taken Intermediate Floral Design as that class covered floral arrangements for funerals. Later that night, she used the search terms Chandrila Funeral Home +Ben on her phone. After all, a good businesswoman should learn about their customers.

 


	2. She Walks In Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reylo meet cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you MyJediLife for being my beta reader!

She walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that's best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:  
Thus mellow'd to that tender light  
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.”

-She Walks In Beauty, Lord Byron

* * *

 

Rey pressed her hands down upon the wooden table—looking at the mood board she had created across from the table. She taped magazine clippings, pictures, bits of ribbon, color swatches, and other found items to the board. If only Rey could translate the mood board to some beautiful and coherent floral arrangements. Beautiful arrangements do not materialize out of thin air, unfortunately. Rey had only been at Jakku Flower Shop for a week but had already made floral arrangements for Chandrila Funeral Home and for a wedding that was planned on short notice. Rey couldn’t believe it herself, but she actually preferred arranging flowers for funerals. Dead people weren’t overbearing and picky—at least, not so far. Rey didn’t have much experience and interaction with the living family and friends of the departed just yet. However, she hoped that they were a lot more pleasant than family and friends of the engaged-to-be-married crowd.

She looked down at her tools. Two gardening gloves—one long, one short. Vases. Vessels. Flower frogs. Funny, that they’re called frogs. Rey thought. They look nothing like frogs. However, they were excellent for anchoring flowers—especially for larger arrangements. Flower frogs were designed so that they sit at the bottom of a bowl or vase and keeps flower stems in place. Rey had a bunch of flower frogs in various shapes and sizes. Of course, the best kind of flower frog were spiky pin frogs. The pin frogs are metal and look like a bed of nails but are extremely useful for anchoring stems and holding them upright. Cage frogs work for larger stems. She pondered what type of flower frog she needed, but she still didn’t quite know yet. Floral putty. Perfect for adhering the floral frog to the vase, dish or other surfaces. Wooden skewers. Floral wire. Floral tape. Lazy Susan. Pruning shears and scissors. Rubber bands. Glue gun. Plastic tubes—for holding water for individual blossoms. Candles and a lighter—for sealing sap on a poppy stem. Thorn stripper. A sharp Victorinox knife. Tissue paper. Ribbons. Buckets of water.

 

“Rey…,” Phasma interrupted her thoughts.

Rey turned around quickly.

 “Yes, sorry, I just…”

 “I understand. I get creative blocks too.”

“You do?”

“Yes, I have an idea. Do you have a driver’s license? I know you take public transportation everywhere…”

“Actually, I do have a driver’s license. What do you have in mind?”

“I’d like you to deliver flowers to Chandrila Funeral Home and then visit the San Francisco Flower Mart.”

 “Another order from Chandrila Funeral Home? When?”

 “Yes, I received an urgent order from Chandrila Funeral Home last night after you left. Rose helped me to arrange the flowers.”

 “Do you need to place a wholesale order at the Flower Mart?”

 “Not right away. Consider this time to get inspiration, meet new people… It’ll help with the creative block.”

 

* * *

 

Rey got into the white van with the floral arrangements in the back. The GPS was open on her phone for directions to Chandrila Funeral Home. It should be straightforward. After all, it was two miles away on the same street—El Camino Real. It was cold. Not a surprise since it was Colma. If living in San Francisco was any indication, it was usually cold and foggy in Colma and Daly City. Same for San Francisco—unless, of course, it was one of those instances in which it was sunny in San Franciso, and foggy in Colma/Daly City. Microclimates, gotta love them. Rey never really knew what to wear, so she usually wore layers. Since she started working at the flower shop, she wanted to look the part. However, it was very impractical. She wore thin blouses, skirts, flats and a light jacket. Today was different. She wore long-sleeved blouse—the color of oatmeal, a robin blue cardigan, navy pants that tapered at the bottom, a blue wool coat (a gift from Poe and Finn) and black flats.

Pulling into the driveway of Chandrila Funeral Home, she spotted someone familiar—only seen in a photo on the Chandrila Funeral home website—Ben. Rey pretends to not know who he is. Sure, she spoke with him when he placed orders—his deep voice. But she never really saw him in person. He looked young. He is young.

 

“You must be Rey… Phasma told me you’d be dropping off the flowers. I’m Ben Solo.”

“Yes, nice to finally meet you in person.”

“I’ll help you unload the flowers.”

“Thank you, but I think I can handle it on my own.”

 “My employees usually unload the flowers, but they’re on their lunch break. Please let me help.”

“Oh, alright.”

 Ben guides Rey to the chapel inside the funeral home, both placing the floral arrangements gently against the walls.

 Ben cleared his throat. “Rey, the family of the deceased wanted me to relay this message to you. They wanted to thank you for the beautiful floral arrangements you created. It brought tears to their eyes.”

 Rey’s hazel eyes lit up. She smiled at him. “Thank you, that means the means the world to me…”

 Ben looked down at his shoes and back up to her face.

 God, she’s beautiful. Ben thought. Why am I so awkward?

 “Mr. Solo, thank you for your help.”

 “Please, call me Ben.”

 “Ok, Ben. Hope you have a lovely day!”

 “Are you headed back to the flower shop?”

 “Actually, I’m headed towards the Flower Mart in San Francisco. It’s one of my favorite places in the world. Phasma asked me to visit to get inspiration.”

 “May I join you? I know it sounds unusual… My next funeral service is in 3 hours. It’ll be my treat. Plus my mother is upset with me. Maybe you could help me select some flowers?”

 “I thought everyone was on a lunch break…” Rey raised one of her eyebrows.

 “Not everyone. My mother is a funeral director as well. She’ll be here.”

 “Well, okay. Under one condition.”

 “What is it?”

 “Only if you drive the hearse there,” Rey responds with a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I tried my best to do some research on flower shops and funeral homes. I know a lot less information about flower shops & floral arrangements, so I downloaded and purchased some books from Amazon. Still waiting for some of the books to arrive. I have no idea how "accurate" this fic will be - probably won't be - no matter how hard I try. I'm not likely to read 700-page textbook about embalming or any other mortuary science textbook as they are a bit pricey. I went back to Cypress College's website. Apparently, the Mortuary Science bachelor's program wasn't around 11 years ago.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this story despite all those inaccuracies. Comments and kudos are appreciated. You are all awesome!


	3. Bloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're finally at the SF Flower Mart.
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> This is unbeta'ed, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Ben obliges her wish to ride in a hearse. Rey stares in astonishment at the array of hearses in the parking garage area.

“Pick one. Personally, I like the newer models for the heat and air conditioning. It is a bit nippy, isn’t it?”

Rey uses her wool coat to cover her chest. She nods slightly despite feeling flustered. She’d only just met him in person and she already felt her whole body blushing. That can’t be normal—at least not for her.

Certainly, it isn’t everyday a girl gets pick a hearse to go to a flower mart in the city. Probably not ever. Rey was curious how Ben ended up with this collection of vintage hearses. She reckoned he had inherited it from family. But she knew how making assumptions got her in trouble more than she liked. So she asked a lot of questions. She like to be described herself as inquisitive… though others had different notions—in not so pleasant words.

 “Did you inherit this collection? It’s very impressive. Although, I do admit I don’t know much about hearses.”

  _Or funerals. Or death. Or being in love. Or out of love._

“Yes, from my grandfather, Anakin. He’s like a celebrity in the funeral business. If you can call him that. Maybe a better word would be legendary.”

 “What’s the oldest model you have?”

 “Probably the horse drawn hearses. We’d need at least two horses for that.”

 Rey laughed.

 Ben could get addicted to her laughter. Sweet with a hint of mischievousness.

 “I mean I’m not a terrible hurry. Perhaps, you could give me a short tour of the hearses in your possession. I love hearing bits of unknown history.”

 “Really? Yeah, sure.”

 Ben saw that she was sincere and was happy to show her around.

* * *

 

Ornate. Rey felt that was the correct verbiage to describe the older and vintage hearses. She couldn’t imagine dying back then. She was certain that if she did, her pauper status would only allow her to be brought to the cemetery by rickety wagon.

The urns on those very early 1890s to 1910s hearses were over the top. Even the drapes—window dressings—looked expensive. Rey looked in awe and shock. Ben explained that the hearses were often loaned out by liveries. It was cost prohibitive to actually own the hearses. 

Rey felt a little more at ease when looking at the hearses from the 20’s and 30’s. They were less ornate, but still had pizzazz. Art deco and death totally go together, she thought. Death is somber, but the funeral procession didn’t need to be.

Hearses from the 40’s had clean lines—nothing ostentatious. All efforts were going to towards WWII. The 50’s had elements of cars that Rey was familiar with—signs of prosperity. The 60’s hearses are much restrained compared to the ornate hearses from the past. The style and body aren’t much different from modern hearses except for some details and updated technology. The 70’s marked the decline of hearse manufacturing. The hearses looked low—much like low riders. Rey recognized the Cadillac hearses from the 80’s. The hearses from the 90s to present time were much sleeker looking.

 Rey opted to go with the sleeker looking hearse. Ben looked at Rey puzzled. Why was she so giddy about riding in a hearse? Rey sensed this.

“I’ve never ridden in a hearse before. Actually, I’ve never even attended a funeral. Not even once.”

 “Really? Not even older relatives? No one?”

 “I don’t really have blood relatives—not that I know of anyways. I’m a foster kid.”

 “Oh… sorry, I didn’t know.”

 “It’s alright.”

 Rey changes the subject to the flower mart. “Do you need the address? I can put the address in your smartphone.”

 “Yeah, of course. Speaking of firsts, I’ve never actually been the SF Flower Mart. It’s the firsts for the both of us—you in a hearse, me at the flower mart.”

 Rey types 640 Brannan St in Google maps and presses start navigation.

 

* * *

 

The ride there is punctuated with sporadic small talk. Rey looks out the window at the changing cityscape. Ben concentrates on driving. He doesn’t want to mention that he hates driving to the city—the limited parking spots, shitty ass drivers, the panhandlers, everything. He didn’t mind the city itself so much—especially with Rey.

The flower mart is off the freeway ramp at the corner of Brannan and 6th Street. After entering through the parking lot, Ben finds a spot farther down—to accommodate the length of the hearse. Ben quickly gets out of the driver’s side to open Rey’s passenger door.

“Are you sure they’re still open? Looks like half the shops are closed,” Ben asks.

“I’m sure. Only half the shops are open on Saturdays. It’ll be less overwhelming. You don’t have to have your senses overloaded, do you?”

“No…”

“Plus this gives us more time to look more intently. Does your mum have any favorite colors or types of flowers? Maybe we could start from there…”

“Uhhhh…”

“Perhaps, we could start at the beginning of the building and work our way around. Sound good?”

“Yes, of course. Sorry, I’m so out of my depth here.”

“No worries. I’ll be your flower guide.”

The SF Flower Mart flanks the rectangle-shaped parking lot on two sides. Warehouse-type buildings. The buildings themselves don’t have much curb appeal. Once inside Rey lights up. Ben can’t help but grin. The insides of the buildings still had an industrial look to it. Metal racks and shelving, wood, white plastic buckets, packaging, newspaper, supplies, gates… Ben found the juxtaposition of the industrial look and the beautiful flowers appealing. It didn’t clash at all. He supposed that the environment was intentional and conducive to the growth of the flowers and plants there. 

“How would you describe your mum?”

 “Ambitious, bold, charming, elegant, graceful… I’m sure there are other words to describe her. Seeing that we’ve just met, I’d rather not divulge too much information,” Ben says cautiously.

 Rey laughs. “Not a problem. I usually see husbands mess up and show up at the flower shop. Not many sons come in to rectify issues with their mums. That’s all the information I need.”

 “Really? That’s all?”

 “Yes, there’s flowers associated with each trait you mentioned. Hollyhock for ambition, carnation for boldness, musk cluster rose and ranunculus for charming, locust tree, pink acacia, pomegranate blossom and yellow jasmine for elegance, pink rose for grace and white geranium and yellow jasmine for gracefulness. I’m sure we can find some of these around the stalls and shops.”

 “Thank you, Rey.”

 “Stay close by. If you see any interesting flowers, feel free to take some pics and I’ll identify them for you.”

 Ben follows Rey from stall to shop—making purchases along the way. Ben’s massive arms carries the flowers.

 “We’ve gathered all the flowers. Should we call it a day?”

 “Wait, I’d like to gift you a plant or some flowers for taking time out of your day to help me.”

“Really, you don’t have to.”

“Well, how about this?”

Ben shows her a picture of bright colorful plants.

“Oh, those are lovely.”

“Do you have one already? Maybe something else?”

“No, that’s perfect. I’ll take the yellow one.”

* * *

 

“We’re here.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that I fell asleep during the ride back to Chandrila. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m sure you’re exhausted. Can you text me once you drive back to Jakku? I want to make sure you got there safely.”

“I don’t have your number.”

Rey types in Ben’s number into her phone.

 

* * *

  

Who knew a funeral director could be such a pleasant and interesting person to be around? Rey couldn’t wait to tell Rose about her excursion to the flower mart with Ben.


End file.
